


Hostage

by LigeiaMaloy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Original Character, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood, Deadlock McCree, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fear, Human Genji Shimada, Jesse does maybe bad things but not the ugly things, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Non-Consensual Violence, Physical Abuse, Sex for Favors, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Assault, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-09-23 23:40:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9687578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LigeiaMaloy/pseuds/LigeiaMaloy
Summary: Coming from a rich family, Genji is the ideal victim for Deadlock. Two ruthless gang members kidnapped him for ransom. They way away from the authorities and to the checkpoint leads to a forest where Genji manages to escape. But in a forest he has never seen before and in the middle of winter, his chances to truly get away from his kidnappers are slim.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Important changes for this au:
> 
> \- no Overwatch  
> \- Genji is his human self and twenty years old  
> \- Jesse is a part of Deadlock and thirty-four years old
> 
> Genji is going to have a hard time. I don't like "kill your darlings" when people say it's about characters. However, once in a while, "make your darlings suffer" sure is an option. 
> 
> Please read the tags and take them seriously. This isn't supposed to be my usual fluffy shenanigans.
> 
> The non-con/almost rape/sexual assault-part won't go too much into detail below the belt and is not going to be the smut-part!

Snow. Snow and Trees. Trees and snow. The forest went on and on but it had to end somewhere. It had to. Genji Shimada ran as fast as his feet would carry him. His flat, thin shoes were no match for the snow. With every step, he seemed to sink deeper and to take longer to free himself from the white hell trying to drag him down. He listened. He was huffing, his chest ached from the piercing cold air. Branches cracked under his feet, snow crunched where the surface had turned into a thin ice crust.

He looked over his shoulder. Nothing, only more trees and his footprints leaving a trail leading straight to him.

“Fuck.” He coughed, regretting the waste of breath. Finding an exit wasn’t enough. He needed a good place to hide, so good even the trail didn’t betray him. Or help. He’d give an arm for a friendly face and add a leg if it came with a hand holding a gun. At least his pursuers were forced to walk on their own feet, the undergrowth was too thick for their horses.

He turned his head around and dodged a low hanging branch of a fir tree. The needles scratched over his face, nearly missing his eyes but at least it didn’t knock him down.

Genji stopped. His hands on his legs, he bent over, gasping for air. He was faster than his kidnappers and had a head start. But he had no idea where he was. The forest wore the same face no matter from where he was looking. Was he running deeper into the woods instead towards the next road? Was he running in circles, back into the arms of these monsters who dared to take him hostage?

He counted down from ten, begging his heart to calm down. He couldn’t allow himself a longer rest. They lived here and even without horses, they would find him soon. He shuddered. Running heated his muscles and his shirt was drenched in sweat under the thin jacket. His lungs and heart thanked him for his break, his skin and muscles suffered from the cold winter air.

Ten.

He turned to his right, praying for the best, and fell into the next sprint.

The problems wouldn’t be over if he came across another human being. In this area, it wouldn’t surprise him if everybody was hostile towards strangers, especially foreign strangers. The kidnappers had taken his phone and wallet, he had nothing on it to proof his identity or, if his name wasn’t enough, let money speak. He cursed himself, for this stupid idea. If he only hadn’t insisted on spending his vacation in the United States, if he had only stayed in Japan. There, his tattoos would have identified him as one of the heirs of the Shimada clan. Here? Nobody cared. How dared his father to give in to his whims this time? He’d give his family hell as soon as he was at home! Where he was somebody, where he was safe and warm and where winter wasn’t this ridiculously cold!

He forgot quickly about home and family when he saw two silhouettes through the trees. His mouth twitched into a smile, then he laughed, his eyes filling with tears of relief.

“Hey!” He yelled, waving with both arms. “HEY! HELP! HELP ME!”

The shapes slowly moved closer. Voices whispered, low laughter echoed in Genji’s hurting ears.

He dug his heels into the snow, the sudden halt clashing with the momentum and he almost fell headlong to the ground.

Two riders emerged from the shadows.

“Howdy, partner.” The man with the thick, brown beard and the wide cowboy hat grinned down at him, a burning cigar in the corner of his mouth. He sat comfortably on his horse, its withers higher than Genji was tall.

“Fucking brat.” The second man spat out. His face was glowing in an angry red under the blond stubble. Blond curls stuck out from under a fur hat as gray as the horse he was sitting on.

“Shit.” Genji turned on his heel and ran.

“Gonna stop this little shit with a fucking bullet!”

“Nah.” A thud from a man jumping from a horse gave Genji a boost of strength.

He leaped over a fallen tree. He ignored the thorns of a bush, tearing his pants when he jerked his leg free. His head lowered to avoid any other low branches, he took a sudden sidestep.

“Not so fast, boy!”

“FUCK OFF!” he cried against the pain in his throat, the fear threatening to choke him.

His pursuer took a long jump and grabbed him from behind. The impact lifted Genji from his feet. He kicked out, hitting the man’s stomach. The satisfaction at the pained grown didn’t last long. Genji crashed on his face, lucky he landed on snow and not another broken tree or hidden stone. He scrambled forward on his knees when the weight of a man pushed him back to the ground.

The air was knocked out of his lungs and his cry for help died in his throat.

“Gottcha!”

“No!” Genji grabbed a handful of snow, twitched around under his captor and hurled it into his face. His other hand shot up. The man turned his head and Genji missed the nose, only hitting his chin. He heard the jaws crack together, followed by a muttered curse. He wiggled and squirmed, hoping to gain enough space between them to use his knee.

“Worse than an eel.” Chuckling, the man tried to grab Genji’s wrists but Genji was faster, landing another hit on the already abused chin. His frustration was growing. How often did he have to hit this guy until he was knocked out, or at least stunned for a few valuable seconds? Genji hissed through his teeth, his fingers trying to poke this asshole’s eyes, but he wasn’t slow either. Giving a cry of desperation, Genji grabbed the beard, pulled it, his legs uselessly kicking the snow. His fingernails scratched the man’s face, his hands too numb for him to know if he hurt him or just slid off.

“Now, now. Give up already and nobody’s gonna get hurt.” The amusement in the deep, slow voice fueled Genji’s desperation only more. Again, his fingers dug into the shaggy beard and yanked the man’s head down, butting his forehead against his face and head.

Finally, the man swayed. Holding his head and nose, he leaned back and for once, something happened Genji would never have believed possible. The snow worked in his favor!

He sunk deep enough to twist his body around and slip free from the body straddling him. He hurried to dig himself free.

“Fuck you, you damn brat!”

A hand snatched him by his ankle. Genji’s kick missed and he landed again on the ground, on his back. He sat up, ready to jump at his pursuer and hit his face again.

Genji’s nose cracked under the blunt end of a gun. Hot, thick blood streamed over his face. A sharp pain shot through his upper jaw and a metallic taste filled his mouth. A tooth had broken off, blood shooting from the gum and root while the splinter slit his tongue.

“Not so much of a loudmouth now, eh?”

Through blurry eyes, Genji watched the man standing in front of him, putting his gone away. Genji’s legs were shaking when he stood up and staggered backward. He was holding his face in both hands, blood, and saliva trickling between his fingers. He winced, his jaws and tongue refusing to move. His face was in pain. His whole body was in pain. His muscles screamed with every step, he was trembling, and his stomach was turning into a knot, sending acid up his throat.

“Please, don’t.” He pleaded when the man came closer but only managed a weak whimper.

A fist buried in his stomach.

Genji fell to his knees, a strong arm catching him when he blacked out and fell over.

*

“I told ya, we should’ve shot him! Stupid piece of shit’s nothing but trouble.”

“Shut up, Weasel. They ain’t payin’ us for bringing them a corpse.”

“You don’t know that. Some people are into that shit.”

“Spoken like a true sick asshole. Make yourself useful and get a fire burning. I take care of the luggage.”

“Don’t order me around, Jesse. You ain’t the boss here.”

Genji groaned in pain. He was slowly waking up, every cell in his body protesting. His face was one swollen mess and hurt more than anything had ever hurt him in his life. His vision was still blurred and he was still sick. He blinked and realized he was lying across the giant horse’s back, his hands tied together behind his back. That explained the pain in his spine and neck.

He winced when one of the men came closer.

“Easy there, kid. Don’t give us any more trouble and you’ll be fine.”

There wasn’t much he could do with his hands tied up and his body frozen stiff. With his jaws on fire, he didn’t dare to bite or talk back. So he remained silent when he was lifted from the horse and thrown over the man’s shoulder.

“Get him inside and take care of them horses! Wind’s picking up!” The blond guy yelled, his arms heavy with lumber. Genji turned his head as far as he dared without raising his captor’s attention. The sky was changing from the depressing gray to a growing, consuming dusk. The night was close. Genji shuddered. If he hadn’t been caught he’d still be out there, lost and stumbling through the forest that probably was a home to bigger problems than two greedy kidnappers. He was far from giving up on escaping but obstinate as he was, right now he was safer with these two assholes who knew the way and therefore, how to stay out of trouble’s way. Genji took this as a chance to rest and for the pain to settle. If he lived long enough to see the next morning, he’d find another opportunity to get away.

The man who carried him grumbled a reply to his friend and kicked the door to a small hut open. His heavy boots disturbed a thick layer of dust. Genji coughed, another jolt of pain shooting through his jaws and nose. He writhed like a helpless fish out of the water. He could hardly breathe through his swollen nose, he swallowed dust when he tried to breathe through his mouth.

“There, there. It ain’t that bad here, no need to suffocate.”

Genji’s eyes filled again with tears and his cheeks burnt. That asshole dared to slap his ass as if he was nothing but another animal.

Not too gently, he was put on the ground and pushed against a wooden support beam. He swallowed down the tears of humiliation and avoided to look at his kidnapper.

“Good kid.” He wrapped a rope around Genji’s neck and tied it to the beam. “It’s one of my best knots. You can sit or lie down but if you try to get away, ya gonna be out of air quick. Don’t try anything funny and all’s gonna be fine.” He chuckled and ruffled through Genji’s black hair.

 _Asshole._ Genji still didn’t dare to speak, the pain stopped him from moving his chin more than he could help it, also, he didn’t want to risk another blow to the face. Carefully, his tongue moved along his teeth. The molar right behind the left canine was broken off, the sharp edges poked his tongue. The slight touch hurt but it had stopped bleeding. He still tasted and smell blood, a stench worse than before, now that it was drying on his face and clotting in his mouth and nose. He gave the man one short glare holding all his hate and contempt.

“Still feisty, eh? That’s cute.” The man laughed, patting Genji’s cheek carefully, pulling his hand back when he flinched. “Listen, kid. Name’s Jesse.”

“Don’t fall in love over there, idiot! The horses still wait and I’m getting hungry!” The other guy was kneeling in front of a small fireplace. He clicked his lighter a few times until the flame flickered steadily and held it against the pile of lumber and dry grass. The flame merrily jumped over and feasted on the wood. The room brightened. Genji felt warmer only from looking at the small, dancing fire. He wished he could crouch closer but the rope around his neck warned him to take Jesse’s words seriously.

“That ray of sunshine’s Weasel. He’s harmless. Just don’t give him a reason to show you the sick fuck he is behind his winning smile.”

“The horses, Jesse!”

“Yeah, yeah, just a minute.” Jesse tied another piece of rope around Genji’s ankles. He made a firm knot, shoved a finger between rope and skin to make sure it wasn’t too loose or tight and stood up. Genji watched him as he walked outside. The door closed and suddenly, the temperature seemed to drop. He glanced at Weasel from the corner of his eyes. He hated both men, he was afraid of Jesse who had proven himself to be strong and ruthless; but when he said he wouldn’t hurt Genji if he didn’t make a fuss, he believed him.

This Weasel guy hadn’t made such promises and if he did, Genji feared he wouldn’t keep him, although he couldn’t say why. Jesse was tall and of a strong built, looking dark and dangerous with his wild beard and the shadow his hat always cast over his face. Weasel was of an average size and average built, wearing jeans, a thick parker and his fur hat. He was neither ugly nor handsome. He guessed him closer to his forties than thirties while Jesse probably was around thirty. His face showed first wrinkles but no scars, the eyes were of a grayish blue and neither too big nor too small.

All over all, an average guy, so bland he could blend in with any crowd and be forgotten the moment he disappeared from one’s sight. Maybe it was this blandness that unsettled Genji. He could read Jesse. He couldn’t read Weasel. No mind could be as bland as his face and as he showed nothing of it, he had to expect everything. Jesse’s warnings added to the vague fear.

“What are you looking at, piss brat?”

Genji woke up from his musings. A hard stare met his eyes and he hurried to look away, crawling closer against the beam. He lowered his head and stared at the floor.

“I asked you something. What are you looking at, piss brat? Oh, I get it. We’re too fine and fancy to talk with scum like me. That’s what you think, yeah? Come on, say it! No need to lie!”

“N…no!” Genji sputtered through his teeth. He hadn’t spoken since he had been knocked out, his mouth still hurt and his throat was dry. He glanced up, a shudder creeping down his spine.

Weasel was twirling the handle of a fire poker in his hands, its end was engulfed by the flames. His eyes were glued at Genji, not missing the slightest movement.

“No, what? No, you don’t wanna talk to me? I’m not good enough for you, or what?” Weasel grinned and stood up. The end of the fire poker was glowing in a bright orange. He pointed it at Genji, slowly walking slower.

“You still think you’re too pretty for me? With that smashed mug? How ‘bout we make you pretty enough for me? But I’m not sure your daddy wants you back then.” He waved the poker tho and fro, only an inch or two away from Genji’s face.

Genji’s eyes widened. He felt the smoldering heat of the iron. Cold sweat ran down his temples. The poker came closer, aiming for his left eye. He turned his head away. The poker pressed against his neck and he howled in pain. The smell of his own burnt skin cut short his breathing.

“Sorry… I’m sorry!” he wailed, crawling away from him. Weasel stepped around him, again holding the glowing iron in front of Genji’s eye until Genji was lying on the floor.

“Sorry? For what? Rejecting me? You stink! You’re ugly! And you still reject me?” He was standing over Genji with a wide grin, his eyes narrowed to slits, his face pink with excitement. Genji couldn’t win. Whatever he said, this sicko would twist his words and use them to corner Genji. He didn’t need an excuse to hurt Genji, seeing his hostage struggle on the floor, tied up and hardly able to speak, only added to his pleasure of torturing him.

“Come on, say something, ugly boy. I’m such a lonely man. Why don’t you wanna be my friend?”

Genji’s eyelashes curled up from the heat. Weasel was now standing between him and the beam. Genji turned his head and twisted his body around, giving a hoarse yelp. The rope around his neck tightened. He quickly turned his head back, the poker almost drilling into his eye. He jerked away and the rope dug deeper into his flesh.

“Eye for an eye, gasp for a gasp.” Weasel sat down with crossed legs, drawing small circles with the iron. “Jesse’s dumb as dog shit but he knows his knots. You have ten seconds to decide. Eye or die.” He laughed at his silly rhyme. The sound was unpleasant, a deep, knowing gurgle in his throat bubbling out of his mouth.

“Please…” Genji whimpered, his voice hardly audible. He was wheezing through his nose and mouth as with every half of an inch he moved, breathing became harder.

“Ten. Nine. Eight. Sevensixfivefourthree…”

Genji gagged, his bound legs flapping on the floor, his wrists pressing against the rough rope, burning his skin. His vision began to fade. When the orange glow came closer, he pressed his eyes together.

“Weasel, stop this sick shit!” a voice thundered from the door.

The poker missed his eye and dragged over the delicate skin underneath. Genji’s weak yelp was drowned by Weasel’s angry yells.

“FUCK you, Jesse! I warned you! Stay out of my work!”

“That ain’t work. You sicko get off from bullying the kid.”

“I’m the boss here! You’re a low-rank piece of shit! Don’t you dare to-”

Genji blinked. His left eye watered, the tears burning like acid in the fresh wound. But at least, he wasn’t blinded!

“Thank…” More he didn’t manage.

“Yeah, yeah.” Jesse grabbed him by his arm and sat him up against the beam. His fingers worked the knot and with a whizz, Genji took a deep, free breath. He grabbed Genji’s chin and lifted it to have a closer look. He felt along the bridge of Genji’s nose and shoved a finger into Genji’s mouth, feeling the teeth. Genji winced and hissed in pain but Jesse’s grip was tight.

“Wait a sec.” He shuffled away, back outside. Genji felt Weasel’s glare on him but he had learned his lesson. He kept his eyes closed and his head lowered, breathing flatly. If he didn’t look at him or move, so he hoped, he wouldn’t provoke him to finish what he had begun.

“And my dinner?” Weasel snapped at Jesse when he returned.

“Are you too old to heat up a fucking tin can? Look at me, kid.” He knelt down in front of Genji, again grabbing him by his chin. “Open your mouth.” He didn’t need to command Genji to do what he said, his fingers pressed firmly against his jaws, forcing them open. Without a warning, he stuffed fresh, cold snow into Genji’s mouth.

“Hngh!” Genji squirmed. The second the cold snow touched his broken tooth, hot flashes of pain drilled through the root. The snow melted into cool water within seconds. He shook his head and tried to spat it out but Jesse already shoved the next portion between his lips and sealed his mouth with his hand.

Huffing through his nose and his chest heaving, Genji looked up at Jesse, catching a glimpse of his dark eyes for the first time. They weren’t scary but they didn’t speak of mercy.

The pain subsided after a few minutes. Jesse still kept Genji’s mouth covered. His free hand grabbed more of the snow he had brought inside and now took turns pressing it against the fresh burn beneath Genji’s eyes and the back of the swollen nose.

Genji’s breath calmed down. There was still a dull, thumping pain in his tooth but the cold snow soothed his gum and tongue and watered down the taste of blood. His nose still hurt as did the burn but the pain didn’t spread over his whole face anymore and he thought the swelling was going down a little. Breathing through the nose became easier.

“There. All better. Promise not to scream.” He grunted when Genji nodded and removed his hand. “Not that anyone’s gonna hear ya anyway here. But I’m tired and I’m not gonna babysit a sick freak _and_ a whiny baby all night, got it? Good boy.” He patted Genji’s cheek when he nodded again. He sighed and stood up.

“Dinner’s ready, darling.” Weasel whistled with sickly-sweet sarcasm and shoved a bowl with steaming soup towards Jesse after he had sat down by the fire. Jesse thanked him with a grunt and began to eat.

“At least we got the right guy. Shimada, Genji, twenty years, Japan. No cash on him, though.” Weasel held Genji’s wallet and browsed through its content, ripping the pockets open in hope of discovering a secret stash.

“No problem. Gonna hack into his account once we arrive. Matter of minutes,” Jesse muttered. He put the bowl aside and took the credit cards from Weasel, shoving them into his pocket. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna cheat ya on your share. Anything else?” He pulled a small loaf of bread from another pocket, broke it into two halves and tossed it at Weasel. He caught it and dropped it into his untouched bowl.

“Nah. Driver’s license, ID, passport, the usual paper-pusher bullshit you need to get in and out of the states.”

Genji swallowed hard against the sob forming in his throat as he was forced to watch how his ID and papers were thrown into the fire. They were only documents but as they were engulfed by the flames, the cards melting into stinking balls of plastic, it was as if he was ceasing to exist outside this hut in the middle of a forest of an unknown country that wasn’t his home.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains molestation and sexual assault.
> 
> Please be careful and consider closing the tab if these things squick you or affect you negatively in any other way. 
> 
> There isn't going to be a full-blown rape scene in this fic.

Genji’s shoulders were stiff. He tried to stretch his arms but the rope around his wrists didn’t yield. His eyelids fluttered. He shifted his weight but found no comfort. Warmth touched his face, his feet were cold as a draft brushed over them. The cozy smell of burnt wood didn’t match the pain pulsating through his face and the hard ground he had fallen asleep on. He was nauseous but oddly enough, he didn’t feel hangover.

His eyelids twitched and slowly, he opened them.

A fire was burning lazily in a fireplace, a man with a wide hat sat hunched over next to it, his head bent down and nodding slightly to the rhythm of his low snores.

Suddenly, everything came back to him and he was wide awake. He hadn’t been on a party that was too good to end well, he hadn’t fallen asleep on a table or in a friend’s shower. His jaw trembled but he swallowed down a sob. He couldn’t bear any more humiliation; it was hard to tell what had been the worst so far, to be punched in the face with a gun after losing a hand-to-hand brawl or that the same man tended to the wounds later. Carefully, he moved his tongue. In spite of his friend’s protest, Jesse had forced Genji several more times to suck on a handful of snow while cooling his nose and burn. The jolts of pain piercing through the broken tooth had hardly been bearable and finally, exhaustion overcame Genji and he had fallen asleep.

But it had helped. He could breathe through his nose almost without any trouble. An uncomfortable pressure reminded him of the burn which only hurt when he flinched. The taste of blood was gone. Genji opened his mouth and moved his jaw. Not well, but tolerable. As long as he didn’t bite on anything with the damaged tooth - or had to eat more snow - he should be fine.

This, however, posed another problem. His guts didn’t only hurt from fear alone. The faint scent of his kidnappers’ dinner still lingered and his grumbling stomach reminded him it had been almost today since he had eaten. Jesse had offered him a squished sandwich the first evening after the kidnapping but Genji, convinced he wouldn’t remain in their hands much longer, had only spat on him.

He gulped down the stomach acid that forced its way into his throat. He’d murder for that sandwich, he’d murder for it if it had fallen into the snow and stomped on by the horses. He wasn’t sure how many more hours were left until morning but it didn’t matter, pride wasn’t as easy to swallow as vomit or molten snow.

Careful to avoid any noise that would wake the men up, he wiggled around. The noose around his throat allowed him to lie on the floor, as Jesse had promised but turning on his other side with the limited range of the rope and his hands and feet tied proved to be a challenge.

Finally, he threw his body around with a thud and stared into grayish-blue eyes.

Genji screamed but a hand moved over his mouth.

His heart hammered against his chest, his breathing was too quick. Weasel grinned at him, baring two rows of white, askew teeth. He placed a long finger over his lips.

He didn’t say a word, only stared into Genji’s eyes, the grin never faltering, no muscle in his face twitching.

Genji winced. He had learned his lesson and pressed his jaws together. He wouldn’t say anything. He closed his eyes, his body trembling when the hand moved away from his mouth and tenderly stroke over his cheek.

It didn’t stop. Cold, moist fingers caressed him and he couldn’t call for help. He didn’t need to see Weasel to know he was still grinning. He was waiting and he had time. One word from Genji, one twitch of his head to escape Weasel’s hand, and whatever happened would be worse than the unwanted, sickening tenderness.

Genji kept his mouth and eyes shut. Weasel moved closer but still, only the hand touched him. Warm breath brushed his face and the stench of unclean teeth and old sweat crawled into his nose. The warmth of the other body was so intense, it wasn’t much different than a touch. Behind his back, the fire hissed as it merrily crackled through the remaining wood and Jesse gently snored, his deep sleep undisturbed.

Wet, cool lips moved over his. Genji whimpered, his body tensing stiff. The muscles of his neck felt like they’d snap any moment as he fought against the impulse to turn his head away from the slick tongue licking his lips. Even now he was aware of the merciless grin and the cold eyes watching him.

He pressed his jaws together, tears of helpless anger and disgust burning behind his eyelids. His chest was heaving, in short, abrupt intervals, too fast to fill his lungs with air. He became dizzy.

A light slap on his cheek scolded him and when he dared to slightly shake his head, a rough fingernail drilled into the burn below his eye. Before he had the chance to act, fingers drilled into his jaw and forced his mouth open.

He was caught in a nightmare by a smug tongue forcing its way between his lips. He gagged at the taste and the feeling, his eyes rolling up behind the eyelids. Nightmares ended. They always ended when he woke up in the real world, a world playing by the rules he was familiar with. He had only to survive the monsters chasing him, a monster with stale breath and a cruel grin. As soon as the night was over, they would move on and he would find a way to free himself. And once he got hold of a weapon, a knife - no, a thick stick would do -, the time of revenge had come. Everything this bastard was doing to him he would pay him back tenfold.

Weasel slid closer, his hard groin pressing against Genji’s.

Unable to control it, Genji convulsed and a gust of vomit shot over Weasel’s face.

“Fuck!” Weasel jumped up, shaking his arms and legs disgust, his hands spread and fingers stiff, all while he tried to clean his face with his sleeve, spitting out what went into his mouth.

“What the fuck is going on here?! Weasel, you fucking asshole!” a voice thundered through the room.

“This fucking bastard! I’m gonna kill him!” Weasel screeched. He darted through the room, grabbed the fire poker and jerked it over his head. “I’m gonna kill him! Gonna smash his fucking skull!”

“No, you don’t! Told ya to keep your hands off the goods. Now get moving and clean up the mess before I wipe it up with your ass! This whole place’s reeking!”

Genji hardly noticed the shouting voices or how Weasel threatened Jesse to remember who the boss of their team is before he stomped outside. He was twitching on the for, his stomach pulsating as he spat out more of its disgusting, sour and bitter content.

Tears came against his will and he was panting when a shadow bent over him. Still shaking, he lifted his head and looked into Jesse’s frowning face.

“Can’t say I’m sorry you hit that jerk right in the face but if ya tell him, I’m gonna spank ya.” Jesse sniffled against a smell. With an old rag, he cleaned Genji’s face, wiped the mess of spit, tears and vomit from his nose and the corners of his mouth.

“I… I hate you… all of you… ” Genji croaked, his throat dry and burning like a prairie fire.

“Can’t blame you, kid. I’ll get you some water.”

Jesse had just stood up and moved back to the fireplace when the door opened. A harsh, icy wind whirled thick, white snowflakes inside. Weasel returned, carrying a bucket and cursing under his breath.

“Drink up, Buttercup.”

A stream of ice-cold water washed over Genji’s head. It blocked his nose and mouth, he choked and coughed, squirming on the floor when a strong hand grabbed him by his arm and sat him up.

“Get a grip, kid. It’s not the fucking Mississippi. Listen, asshole. I’m tired of your bullshit. Keep it up and it’s gonna end with a hole in your head.”

Genji looked up but Jesse had turned his back to him, taking a threatening step towards Weasel and poking his chest. God, that was the last thing he needed, the two of them killing each other and leaving him here alone to starve to death.

“I’m the boss here, Jesse, and I don’t like I have to remind you all the time lately.”

“Spare me with your creep show and leave the boy alone. Nobody pays for anything that smells of your ugly dick.”

“Don’t bore me to death. You’re getting soft, Jesse. Get out of my way!” Weasel shoved Jesse aside and hovered above Genji, glaring down at him, his arms crossed.

“You’re going to regret it. Not now, but soon enough. You’ll beg me to kill you soon enough. I’ll think of something good for you. After all, I’ll have to enjoy your dumb face longer than planned.”

“Keep your hands off of him and start scrubbing.” Jesse threw a thin, holey towel over Weasel’s head. “Pull yourself together for the next two days and pay some good, honest whores to eat your shit after the deal’s over.”

“Why pay sleazy sluts when I can have something good and honest for free? Or are you calling our golden baby here bad and dishonest?” Weasel grimaced but when Jesse began to clean the floor with another towel, he knelt down as well. “But joke’s on you, Jesse. The weather turned and the tiny snowstorm outside’s just the beginning.”

“How many days you’d say?”

“Two. And even you have to go out for a piss sooner or later and I’ll have a good time inside.” He flashed a triumphant grin at Genji.

Genji felt like throwing up again. He stared at his feet, trying his best to ignore the two men cleaning the floor of the mess he had made. If he interpreted the exchange correctly, instead of moving on tomorrow, they were going to stay two days in this cabin. Two days, tied up in one cage with a sick sadist who was silently scheming what he was going to do to his victim as soon as they were alone.

*

It was just beans and bread and they weren’t even fresh. The soup had been hot two hours ago and the bread, dry as bones before, was mushy from soaking in the liquid. Genji had been observing the door with the greatest interest since Jesse had placed the dish next to him. If he didn’t see it, he could pretend it wasn’t there. He paid close attention to his breathing. Inhale. Hold. Count to four. Release. Think of nothing.

He wished he hadn’t skipped meditation for the last four years but then again, how should he have known he’d need it in case he was kidnapped? He had to admit, however, if somebody had told him he would want to clear his mind of any worldly desires so he could reject offered food when he was starving he would have considered it a good joke.

“You sure you don’t wanna eat?”

Genji shook his head.

“Suit yourself. But I’m not gonna help ya when a bear answers that mating call.”

Genji blushed when Jesse laughed and pulled up his knees, hoping the pressure would silence his growling stomach. He hadn’t known hunger or thirst. Delicious, fancy dishes or satisfying junk food, he always got what he wanted, when he wanted. The only hunger he ever experienced was during the time span between waking up and shuffling to the fridge.

He had never dreamed of a day when eating and drinking became a luxury and humiliation at once. He’d have eaten a dead rat - if he could take it into his own hands to bite off its head. The first day had just begun, traces of his pride were still there. Also, despite Jesse scrubbing his face as thoroughly as the floor and peeling him out of his jacket, Genji still believed to smell like vomit, which dampened his appetite. For now. He wondered when he’d give in and let Jesse feed him with a spoon. The shy voice of reason in his head told him it couldn’t become much worse and it was probably right. Last night, he had been too exhausted to refuse the water Jesse had offered him and everything that went inside came out eventually.

He had cried more desperate tears this morning than when his nose was broken or Weasel molested him. This all felt like a nightmare. But when both men led him outside, untied him and observed him closely with drawn weapons when he relieved himself was a reality he couldn’t deny. He couldn’t decide which was worse - Weasel’s gleeful grin or Jesse’s pitying chuckle.

Sooner or later, however, he’d have to eat and to drink again but with each passing hour, his hope to come out of this alive dwindled away. Without hope, the fragile remains of his pride were all he had left.

What would his father say? Or his brother? Would they learn of his fate? How long would their contact wait with the ransom money until he called them and informed them the kidnappers never showed up?

The door opened. Genji quickly turned his head around and lowered his gaze, sighing when it fell on the bowl of food.

“Dark like in your mother’s ass.” Weasel stomped the snow off his boots and shook it from his parker. He pulled off his hat and tossed it into Genji’s face. He slumped down in front of the fireplace, freed himself from his boots and placed them neatly in front of the fire, next to his gloves.

“I’m getting tired of this shit, Jesse. You’ll look after the horses this evening, no discussion. Poor things, they were so hungry and thirsty. Smart beasts, they’re grateful when they get their rations. Unlike others.”

Genji didn’t look up when Weasel scoffed into his direction. If he, against all odds, survived, he’d spare Jesse. Weasel might call him ungrateful all he wanted but Genji _was_ grateful. Jesse hadn’t slept since they cleaned the floor. He made sure his partner wasn’t alone with their victim and Genji didn’t even want to imagine what Weasel do to him if he had the chance. He didn’t fool himself. Jesse wasn’t a sadist but this was business for him. An insane or dead hostage endangered the deal. He hadn’t heard any hard numbers but the price for one of the heirs of the most powerful families of Japan had to be a fortune.

Still. In these darkest days of his life, Genji was grateful for anyone who didn’t get off from making him suffer.

“He can help me.”

“How? As a clothes rag for your hat?”

“When you hold it, he can stay here. Would make things easier.”

Jesse didn’t go back on his word. Genji spent a peaceful hour with the horses. He was surprised that a wooden cabin in the middle of nowhere not only came with the comfort of a full functioning fireplace and a well-stocked cupboard but also with an extra shed for horses.

The shed was small, it offered just enough room for two animals and an extra section where hay, blankets, and spare riding equipment were stored. No luxuries, but it offered everything needed and shielded them from the howling storm. Jesse hung his lantern on a hook and put Genji down on the straw-covered floor and tied his neck robe to the same wooden bar where the horses were tied to. The animals had been intimidating when Genji was forced to walk between them but looking up from the floor, they were scary giants.

But both horses were mellow by nature. Jesse’s mare searched him with his soft mouth. When she didn’t find any treats, she nibbled on his hair for a minute and once she was convinced it wasn’t edible, she left him alone. Jesse was more responsive to her nudges anyway and pulled an apple from his coat. Happy about the fresh, sweet taste, she didn’t mind sharing with the second horse. Both chewed blissfully while Jesse brought a bucket of fresh water from the nearby river and brushed their fur.

Genji wasn’t an expert on horse care but the animals had looked good and clean when they had come. But who wouldn’t prefer the company of two silent, docile animals over an evil human being?

“Can I stay here? Please?” Genji took a sharp breath. It was the first time he was speaking since Weasel had come back to the cabin hours ago. “I promise, I won’t try to escape.” The storm was still howling and whistling through the trees like a beast hungry for souls. The day was a never-ending dusk that would soon yield to the darkness of the night. Here, he was safe from the storm and from Weasel. A bed of straw was more alluring than the hard floor. He envied the horses as they chewed on their hay as if it was the most refined selection of delicacies. The idea to try a few bites himself didn’t feel absurd at all.

“Nope. You’d freeze to death before the night is over.”

Genji bit on his lip as Jesse shattered his hopes.

“Don’t blame me, I didn’t come here in summer clothes.” Jesse chuckled, tugging at Genji’s shirt before he helped him up.

“Thought this was America and not the fucking North Pole.” He looked down at his thin pants and shoes. They offered no protection to the snow and the wind and his jacket hardly helped. Especially now, while it was drying in front of the fire back inside the cabin. He wasn’t looking forward to putting it on to again. Unless he was allowed to wash it, it would still reek of vomit, a poor deal considering it didn’t do much to keep him warm.

“Yeah, winters can be harsh here. I know it’s hard for you, kid.” Jesse patted his shoulder as he steered him outside the shed. “The gang has work ethics, too, and as long as a family is willing to pay, we don’t harm hostages. You’re a little unlucky I got teamed up with Weasel.”

“Unlucky.” Genji almost laughed. “I don’t need comfort from a gangster. I know how crime syndicates work. It’s always ugly. I… it’s good not everyone is like your friend. But nothing about this shit is lucky! I’m cold, I’m hungry, everything hurts from these damn ropes. You broke my face and your fucking friend is a fucking sadist who wants me dead! A little unlucky, yeah, fuck this shit!” Genji shouted the last words against the wind. Snow was blown into his face and cooled the hot tears streaming down his face. He turned his head away. Dammit, he had never been a crybaby, not even a whiner and now he had lost count how often he had turned the water tape on. He clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms. He couldn’t even shake them or drum on Jesse’s chest. He couldn’t do anything, if he had waited another minute until they were back inside, he couldn’t even have yelled. There was nothing he could do but trembling and gasp for breath as his lungs refused to fill.

“There, there. It’s over soon.” Jesse put his arm around Genji’s shoulder and Genji hated it how the simple gesture calmed him down. “Warm up, eat something, and you’ll feel better. Leave Weasel to me. I know how to handle him.”

Genji didn’t trust him but it was nice to pretend he did. Playing pretend kept him sane. Pretend this was going to end soon, pretend he didn’t want to eat because of a dare with his friends, pretend this was nothing but a bad dream. If he couldn’t lie to himself how real the pain and the fear felt, he imagined this was a prank that went too far. He busied himself scheming his revenge until his friends revealed himself and had a good laugh at his expense while he watched Jesse wrapped the rope around his ankles again after tying him to the beam.

“Beer?”

“Good idea.” Jesse ignored the bottle Weasel offered him. He went to the shelf and took a new one and opened it himself. Genji bit on his lip to hide a smirk. Between those four walls, nobody trusted anyone.

Genji leaned against the beam with closed eyes and sighed. He gave up to figure out of he felt nauseous from fear, from vomiting last night or from hunger. Jesse had only shrugged when Genji rejected another bowl of soup. It was hard, the freshly heated meal was the most delicious thing he had ever smelled. Listening to the spoon clanging against the bowl as Jesse ate it himself didn’t make it easier and Genji’s stomach seemed hell-bent to punish him with sickening cramps for his stubbornness.

The two men were talking about horses. Weasel asked a few times about weapons, mentioned names Genji didn’t recognize, but Jesse only changed the topic back to horses. There was an unspoken tension between them that had nothing to do with Genji, who tried not to let it worry him. Occasionally, the conversation stopped. Then, he sensed Weasel’s glare on his face and how it wandered over his body. It made him feel dirty but he endured it in silence. After a few minutes of silence, they were back to talking about horses again and as the evening went on, Genji dozed off.

Shouting voices woke him up. He took a few seconds to remember where he was. Cold sweat formed on his back. Was there a fire? God, they wouldn’t bother with him, he was burning alive!

“Jesse, get up, the horses!”

Genji’s eyes got used to the dim light. The door was wide open. Snow was blown inside. Outside, the world lay in complete darkness. Weasel was standing in front of the fireplace, waving his arms, his eyes filled with shock and disbelieve.

“What’s with them?” Jesse was awake at once and on his feet. He reached for his gun, ensuring it was in its holster.

“They’re gone! The door’s open, they just went out. Or some asshole released them!” Weasel lightened a second lantern. Jesse grabbed it while jumping into his boots.

“And what were _you_ doing outside?” Jesse looked from Weasel to Genji through squinted eyes.

“Taking a goddamn piss, you idiot, what else? Enjoying the scenery?”

Jesse grumbled a reply and followed Weasel outside. The door fell shut.

Genji was alone.

Still tired, he needed a moment to process the scene that had just unfolded in front of him. A shudder crept up and down his spine. If the two men got lost in the darkness, he was done for. If something happened to Jesse and Weasel returned alone… He shook off the thought.

How could the horses run away? They had been content with the world when he had seen them and they were tied to a bar. Suppose they found a way to break through the door, how could they have freed himself from the ropes? They were just animals would they really chew through the ropes and break the door open to leave food and shelter behind in favor of the dark forest and a snowstorm?

What if the cabin wasn’t as well hidden as Jesse had assured him? Who would have an interest in chasing the horses away and who said that this someone was on his side?

He hated Jesse and Weasel, Weasel terrified him, but he knew their faces. A stranger sneaking around in the darkness, messing with them in the middle of the night, motives unknown…

Genji closed his eyes and began to count. If he was still alive once he reached fifty, he would be safe and nobody would break into the cabin and attack him.

Thirty-eight.

Thirty-nine.

Forty.

The fire crackled, eating through the last bits of wood. It would die soon if nobody added more lumber or poked it.

Forty-one.

Forty-two.

Forty - a sudden bang on the floor. Genji shrieked. Something scratched over the floor. Genji jerked up his head and hit against the beam behind him. He forced himself to look at the fire.

“Ha… haha…”

It was only an empty beer bottle. Probably not being placed properly before, it had fallen from a chair and what his brain mistook for scratching noises was just the bottle rolling over the floor and coming to a stop at Genji’s feet.

“Okay. Again! Fifty, and I’m safe from _dangerous, life-threatening_ scary things!” He laughed at himself to ease his nerves, closed his eyes and started counting again. The empty bottles had their satisfaction of seeing him jump and didn’t bother him again. The first complete set of fifty counts went over uneventful, so did the second.

He opened his eyes and was still alone. No ghost, no hungry forest spirit with green, poisonous drool dripping from its sharp fangs stared at him through red eyes. Also, no Jesse, no Weasel.

“I’m an idiot… Fifty, why fifty? A minute has sixty seconds. Should have counted to sixty to keep track of the time. Genji, this place is killing your brain cells. Not that I’m the sharpest orange in the knife drawer to begin with.” He laughed and sounded like he would break into tears any moment. “Haha…” He kept babbling. He scolded himself for being a fool, told himself anecdotes from the last party he had thrown before he left Japan. They had had so much fun! Alcohol, whores, food! Everything in abundance and within reach. He asked himself for advice, what he should do when neither Jesse nor Weasel returned and his only company fell silent.

Fuck.

He lay down on his side, pulled up his legs and bent them backward as far as possible. His upper legs began to hurt as he stretched them beyond a natural angle

“Fuck you, Jesse McCree…” That asshole knew his knots indeed. He bent his legs and spine, he almost felt his fingertips touch his ankles. It wasn’t enough. He needed to cover more than half an inch to mess with the knot and at this rate, he’d only dislocate a disk or snap a muscle.

He exhaled slowly as he stretched his body and rolled on his back and inspected the ceiling. He knew the room well enough by now to imagine it without looking around. His feet were pointing towards the door. The beam with the wall was to his right, the fireplace with the shelf next to it to his left. At the end of the room stood two narrow field beds, only one was used by Weasel. Jesse sat by the fire whether he slept or kept an eye on Genji and, to an extent, Weasel.

Jesse was wearing his gun on his body and didn’t bother to hide it. He had seen Weasel with a gun as well as with a knife but both were hidden out of sight but probably had both always with him, too. They were careful not to let any weapons lying around, God knew how they expected Genji to find a way to grab a weapon out of his reach with his hands bound. Empty food cans got stuffed into a bag which was put outside. A shame, he could have used a sharp lid to cut the ropes. He wasn’t sure how but as they didn’t leave one close to him details didn’t matter.

His back was getting stiff from the tension in his body and from sitting in the same position for hours. He rolled his shoulders and clenched and relaxed his hands to get rid of the white noise in his nerves. He flexed the muscles of his legs and wiggled his toes, one by one to keep the blood circulating through his cold feet.

He sat up and crouched around, moving his legs towards the fire in hope of a little more warmth.

His feet touched something. His heart gave a jump and he could only watch in dismay how the empty bottle from before rolled away.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He was really a dumbass. Empty bottle, glass! Just what he had needed! But his chance was gone and found a new resting place by the fire.

“Fuck this weather!”

Genji’s head jolted up when the door opened and was thrown shut.

“Are you okay, are the horses okay? Did you find them? Did you find out what happened?” Genji’s chatter stopped when his eyes caught up with his tongue.

“Would you look at that, our ugly prince is chirping like a sparrow. Missed me that much?”

Genji shrunk under Weasel’s grin. He hurried to lower his head and turn his gaze away, the sudden joy of hearing a familiar voice turned into terror.

“Where’s Jesse?” he whispered, his heart pounding. His hopes shattered when Weasel laughed.

“Chasing after the ladies. It’s just the two of us now, honey. Us, the crackling fire keeping us warm and safe from the storm outside. Ain’t that romantic?”

Weasel came closer. Genji pulled up his legs. His back pressed against the wood behind him.

“I… don’t know…”

“Wrong answer, stupid.” Weasel grabbed the rope tied around his neck and gave it a strong yank.

The rope tightened. Genji cried out, the sound nothing more but a pathetic wheeze. He kicked out with his bound legs, wasting more air instead of gaining more. Suddenly, the rope loosened but before he could gasp for air, a kick against his chest knocked out what little wind was left in him. He panted and hissed, his ribcage and organs seemed to be constricted and the lungs refused to fill.

A second abrupt pull on the rope dragged him to the floor.

“Let’s see. Running away, punching my dear friend McCree. Being a lazy fuck.” Weasel kicked his side and Genji rolled on his stomach. “Interrupting our lovely first kiss by puking into my face. Making me clean up your mess in the middle of the night and finally, ridiculing my romantic heart. You owe me, boy.”

“So…rry…” Genji squirmed, trying to get away but a knee drilled into his back and kept him in place. He struggled to recover his breath; whenever he was inhaling deeper, the rope tightened around his throat.

“So tell me, honey.”

Weasel’s hand moved under Genji, reaching for the buttons holding his pants. Every squirm to get away was punished by the merciless rope cutting off his air.

“Are you a virgin or not? Be honest, dearest.” His voices sounded almost bored, the underlying coldness scaring Genji more than manic laughter would have. Weasel was knowing what he was doing and what he was saying and what an effect it had on Genji. Slowly, he pulled Genji’s pants down to the ankles.

“So shy? I’m not blaming you for fooling around. I’m not your mother, you know. Young men need to earn experience.”

Genji’s legs twitched. His tongue was dry in his mouth. He was given enough air to remain barely conscious, he wasn’t allowed the mercy of passing out until his tormentor was done to him. Because it halved Weasel’s fun if his toy wasn’t awake and missed what was happening.

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll find it out myself.” He shoved his knee between Genji’s legs, spreading them as far as the bonds would allow.

Genji choked on a sob. The cold hand moved over his ass and between his buttocks.

“Well, you clench like a virgin. Come on, relax a little. Don’t you have other things to worry about?” He gave the rope such a strong pull it jerked up Genji’s head and his shoulders. Genji let out a suffocating cry when the grips loosened. He crashed on his face, tears shooting out of his eyes at the stinging pain from his broken nose. White flashes blinded his vision. The same second, two hard fingers drilled into him.

He lacked the strength for more than a pained whimper. A weight on his back pressed his own, tied hands against his spine.

“Don’t faint, honey. You don’t want to miss the fun.” The cruel voice whispered right beside him. A slick tongue licked over his ear. “Do you fill this? How nicely you relax? We should thank Jesse for this later, don’t you think?” Weasel wrapped the rope around his hand. “Let’s see how long ten seconds really are.” He cut off Genji’s breath and began to count, his spread fingers slipping deeper with every count. “Ten. Nine. Eight… what was next… seven… Oh, see, now you really want them! I’m touched.”

Genji lacked the air to cry or to throw up or to only lie still. He twitched and convulsed, like a worm on a hook. He had no control over his muscles, everything of his being screamed for air, his body not caring that his struggle allowed the disgusting hand to invade him only more.

“And for a moment I thought you didn’t want this. That you despised me. Well, guess I was wrong. Greedy little slut. But don’t worry, I have more for you… oh, I almost forgot. Six, five, four, three, two, one.”

Genji was lying flatly on the floor. The skin beneath the rope was torn, blood trickled down his throat that burnt worse from inside. Drool dripped out of his gaping mouth, tears streaming down his face his only reaction to the pain between his legs. The weight was lifted from his back.

A zipper opened, fabric rustled as a pair of pants slid to the floor.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see, my friends! Thanks for all the kudos, comments, and subscriptions!
> 
> Let's find out how Genji has been meanwhile. Better? Worse? What will it be?
> 
> (I apologize for the rough and ready writing! I finally find the time to write chapter three, I couldn't wait to upload it asap :'))

Genji was too weak to panic. Weasel’s body weighed him down, his hard prick rubbed against Genji’s ass. Heat touched his skin. Sheer disgust waved over him and clenched around his stomach, but in vain - it was empty, there wasn’t anything left inside but acid and bile, and with the rope tight around his throat, he couldn’t suck in enough air to make himself throw up.

“No… don’t…” His voice wasn’t more than a broken whisper. Genji barely heard himself speak but the giggle next to his ear told him he did, and it turned the asshole on even more. Weasel’s breathing became raspy when he pressed between Genji’s buttocks, drawing a faint, sickened yelp from Genji’s lips.

“Good, good. Give me more of that sweet voice.” A tongue licked over his ear, leaving a thick trail of drool.

He gave up. He hadn’t enough air left to scream or fight. His muscles went limp. He’d wait. Wait for Weasel to have his way with him. If he did nothing he’d get bored sooner or later and leave him alone. Genji closed his eyes until he saw nothing but gleaming, white flashes, holding what little breath he had at the first sting of pain.

“Fuck you!”

The words exploded like thunder, their scorn resonated from the walls and filled the room.

Genji was suddenly feeling light, almost like he was floating. He shuddered. He was cold.

“Fuck yourself! Let me go at once!” Weasel’s screeches pierced through his ears. His head seemed to weigh a ton when he rolled it on the other cheek. He lacked the strength to lift it and his eyes almost disappeared in his skull when he looked up.

He caught a glimpse of Weasel’s bare ass, his feet dangling and kicking inches above the floor.

“SHUT UP!” The voice growled and the next second, Weasel was smashed to the ground, his squeal nothing but a gagged hiss when the air was knocked out of his lungs.

“McCree, you-” he croaked and like a furious shadow, Jesse launched down on him. Bones broke under his fist. The second punch to Weasel’s face cut him short.

Genji blinked a few times and closed his eyes again. He was asleep. Dreaming. Miracles never happened and if he was caught in a nightmare after the lack of oxygen finally had mercy with him and allowed him to faint, he didn’t want to break the illusion before Weasel was done with him. He’d break if he believed what just happened was real only to realize it wasn’t.

“Hey, hey, boy! Do you hear me? Genji!” It wasn’t Weasel who was speaking but if Jesse was still searching the horses it had to be Weasel, playing a prank on him with the concern in his voice. But he had learned. Any word was a provocation, a trick, and so he remained silent.

He was pulled up and shoved against the wall, his head dropped back and hit against wood. His eyes were still closed, his chest heaved, desperately pumping air into his body now that it had the chance. Somebody moved closer to his face, he felt the warmth and smelled the cold and the snow from the world outside. Hands reached around his neck, any moment, he’d choke again. Something flat and smooth pressed against his skin.

“Now, hold still for a second…”

It was like one of those mornings after a long, wild night. He could sleep in but the dreams were already fading, no matter how much he tried to hold on to them. He slipped away from far away worlds and adventures built on memories and with a force stronger than gravity, life pulled him back into reality, down into his bed. It was a lost battle and nothing could stop his eyes from opening.

He hadn’t been asleep. He wasn’t waking up in his comfortable bed, snuggled into his duvet or the arms of a lover from the night before.

Dark eyes stared down at him, a wild beard framed the angry mouth and warm breath brushed Genji’s face.

A hand was grabbing his shoulder, another was behind his head. Where the rope to strangle him was.

“NO!” His yell scratched his throat from inside, the high-pitch piercing through his own ears. His lungs screamed in pain when the valuable air was ripped from them again.

“Careful!” Jesse’s hands snapped away. A knife with a polished, sharp blade made a clanking noise on the floor. “Calm down!”

“No! Go away! Go away!” The tears he couldn’t cry before broke free. A messy stream running over his face. He hissed and sputtered as he shouted. He jerked his head away, knocking against the wall behind him but the white, dancing lights flashing in front of his eyes didn’t interrupt his wailing.

“Calm down, kid. It’s okay. Everything’s okay now!”

Genji tossed his head from one side to the other, wincing and wiggling when hands touched his shoulders.

“Don’t touch me!” He pressed himself closer to the wall, his bound legs kicking. Jesse hurried to stand up and take a step to the side to avoid Genji’s knees in his groin. Genji’s voice had stopped to bother with forming words. He was a trembling mess of incoherent screams that turned into wails of panic whenever Jesse tried to move closer.

Somewhere, from a place far away in his mind, a shivering voice whispered to Genji but he couldn’t hear it. He didn’t hear anything. There was only the lack of pressure that only reminded him more of how Weasel was grinding against his bare ass just a minute ago. Weasel’s voice was still there, his cackling words mocked him and his spit seemed to burn through his skin where he had licked him.

A sweet delirium finally showed mercy and pulled him out of a cruel reality. Voices lost their meanings and he chose where he was. At home, his home, where he was respected and safe. He had trained with his brother all morning after skipping the daily sessions too often, that was why his body hurt. He fell asleep before he dried himself after a shower and missed dinner, that was why he was cold and hungry. In the morning, he’d wake up and everything would be all right. Breakfast would wait, he’d tease his brother, mock his father and before he knew it, the nightmares would become too surreal to be remembered. All he needed was sleep. A long, deep sleep, without seeing or hearing or feeling anything.

Something tickled his cheek. A lousy insect, nothing else. He brushed it off. Nasty pest, it stung him. He brushed it off again.

“FUCK!” Genji jumped to his feet, covering his nose after a flat hand smacked his cheek. His nose felt as if it was shattered again. Suddenly wide awake, he stared at the man standing in front of him. A cigar hung loosely in the corner of his mouth. His left hand relaxed on the gun in the holster around his waist. He flipped a knife between his fingers of his right hand. He didn’t point it at Genji but made aware of his weapons’ presence.

Genji took a step back, slipped, and his back crashed against the beam behind him. He looked down. Ropes, cut in pieces, were lying to his feet.

“Welcome back, kid. Behave and we won’t have any trouble.” Jesse grinned, smoke streaming out of his mouth with every word.

“I… don’t understand.” This was his nightmare but was it a new one or still the same. Weasel was gone but instead, there was Jesse. His hands! His hands were free. He turned them, watched his fingers clench and relax. This was different from before, this was his proof. He was caught in a bad dream! All he had to do was wake up and it would be over. Then he saw the red marks on his wrists where the ropes had bitten deep into his skin.

“It’s not a dream…”

“Definitely not mine.” Jesse stopped playing with his knife and spat on the body lying on the floor. “I prefer mine with more booze and less roadkill.” He prodded the body’s side with his foot. Genji covered his mouth with his hand when another stream of stomach acid shot up his throat. The body, Weasel, wasn’t dead. His face was covered with blood, his eyes and lips swollen and from his half-open mouth escaped a pained groan.

Genji’s legs were shaking. He could hardly stand and his muscles hurt from the abuse of the last days. But as slowly as surely, the door was coming closer. Jesse was still busy cussing at his knocked-out partner and didn’t pay any attention to him. His trembling fingers reached out for the door knob.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Genji’s hand switched back and he turned around. Jesse had crossed his arms and watched Genji with a bored grin on his face.

“What do you think?” Genji’s mouth twitched. Jesse could shoot him or slit his throat within seconds. One wrong word or move and he was dead or worse, Jesse finished the job Weasel started. Genji didn’t stand a chance. He was sick and tired, and as helpless as he had been before he was freed of the ropes. He wanted to spit whatever was boiling in his stomach into Jesse’s face and maybe it would burn away this stupid grin. “I have enough of this shit. I’m leaving.”

His fingers behind his belt, Jesse burst with laughter. Genji inhaled deeply, clenching his jaws despite the pain from his damaged tooth.

“You motherfucking bastard, I’ll-” His voice broke off. Suddenly, the more he wanted to run, the weaker his knees became. He backed against the door and slid to the ground.

“No!” he croaked, his breathing short and abrupt.

Jesse looked behind him.

Weasel rose from the floor. As unsteady on his feet as Genji, he staggered forward, a hideous, bloody grin parting his face.

“Piss off, Weasel.” Jesse rolled his eyes and countered Weasel’s weak punch with a half-hearted slap on his wrist. “Crawl in a corner and stay there until this job is over and we won’t have a problem.”

“Fahk yu, ‘esse. Ah get buisses wit the kid.” Weasel’s jaw moved with uncanny twitches as he hissed. With each step, he regained control over his movements. He dismissed Jesse’s presence with a sharp wave of his hand as he stumbled past him and towards Genji.

Viscid blood dripped from his mouth and he chuckled when Genji pulled up and hugged his legs.

“On three, you leave the kid alone and turn around.” Jesse raised his knife. “One.” The tip of the blade clicked against his teeth.

“Sha’ up!” Weasel screeched, falling over Jesse’s outstretched leg, his chin smashing on the floor only inches away from Genji’s feet. “Ouch.” Sputtering blood and curses, Weasel lifted and shook his head. His watery gaze caught Genji’s terrified stare.

“Two.” A second click.

“Mosserfukah. Hey, babe. Mished meh?” Weasel put a hand on Genji’s arm and pulled himself up on his knees.

“Three.”

Weasel’s face exploded. The bullet went through his skull and drilled into the door behind Genji, barely an inch away from his throat. Weasel’s head tilted to the side. A hole in the place where his nose and cheekbones had been merged with his mouth.

The body collapsed. Genji giggled. When he was little, his red rubber boots were his proudest possession. They were a gift from his grandmother. He loved her. She wore red lipstick, as red as the boots. He didn’t want to spoil them with dirt. Splash, that was the sound of a hesitant boy making a careful jump into a puddle on a rainy day, wearing new rubber boots for the first time. Splash was also the sound of a torn-apart head landing in the puddle of the blood streaming from its gaping jaw.

Genji couldn’t stop giggling. Then he was laughing until tears streamed down his face. He wiped it with the back of his hand, beheld the thick mixture of tears, blood, and brain matter covering his fingers.

He held up his hand and looked at Jesse, still shaking with laughter.

“Did you know brains smell? Because they do!” He chuckled, then he choked. On the laughter, the horror, the smell of blood and brain matter. When it stopped being funny, he vomited what little was left in him over Weasel’s dead body.

*

“Let me down!” His fists hammered on Jesse’s back. “Let me down! I don’t wanna die! Leave me alone! Ugh…” He was feeling sick again, sea sick this time. Jesse had thrown him over his shoulder and, with a lantern in his free hand, stomped with him through the snow. Genji punched him, his legs kicked, but Jesse’s grip was firm.

“I’ll kill you if you puke on me,” Jesse laughed, unfazed by Genji’s tantrum.

“Where are we going?” Genji sniffled, wiping his nose and regretted it. With a stuffed nose, he hadn’t smelt the horrible cocktail of vomit and death.

“Surprise.” It was still in the middle of the night. They were only a few steps away from the cabin and its silhouette was already difficult to make out in the darkness. The lantern illuminated the darkness around them and painted the snow in a soft orange color. The white ground crunched under Jesse’s booth, an almost deafening sound in the silence of the night. Soon, they were interrupted by another sound, the questioning neighs of horses. They were still close to the cabin if the bandits’ mounts could still hear their master.

Genji’s head was bouncing on Jesse’s shoulders. He was exhausted and tired of Jesse’s games.

“What are you doing to me?” Genji asked faintly. If he was honest, he didn’t care anymore what was going to happen to him, if it only happened quickly and he was done with this nightmare.

Jesse hung the lantern on a low-hanging branch. The comforting glow shifted away from them and surrounded the tree. Without giving Genji an answer, Jesse grabbed him firmly around his waist and pulled him from his shoulder.

“What are you doing? Hey, hey!” Genji struggled against the grip but before he had the chance to land a punch, he flew through the air. Sudden coldness knocked the air out of his lungs. He gasped, swallowing a mouthful of water when he was pulled under the surface by the stream. Flailing his arms and legs he fought against the rising panic. His foot hit against a stone. That meant he was close to the ground! After a few more seconds of disorientated kicking in the same direction, he found his footing.

Spewing water from his mouth like a fountain, his head emerged. Genji looked around. He was standing in the middle of the river, only a few minutes away from the cabin! Jesse had taken a detour around it to mess with Genji’s senses and now he was sitting on the river bank, holding his belly as he was roaring with laughter, the lantern in his hand shaking dangerously.

“Asshole,” Genji pressed through cluttering teeth. He was drenched from head to toe and with the water streaming around him, all his violent shivering to keep him warm was in vain.

“Here!” Jesse pulled a bar of soap from one of his pockets and tossed it at Genji. “You stink.”

Genji scowled at him, cursing his own reflexes when he caught the soap midair, but he didn’t argue. Jesse was right.

“The sooner you get to work the sooner you can get out.” Jesse put the lantern on the ground and lightened a fresh cigar.

“You gonna regret this one day. Wait until my family hears of this!” His words hadn’t the intimidating effect he wished, with his chattering teeth and his tight voice. Growling to himself, he rubbed the soap over his hair. His fingers were frozen stiff, he couldn’t throw the soap away if he wanted to, he might as well use it.

“Don’t forget behind your ears!” Jesse chuckled between two puffs, the end of his cigar dancing in front of his face like a round fire fly.

“Haha, funny.” Genji soaped his face and held it under water, rinsing the foam off. He shook his head, lathering his face a second time. But the smells still persisted. More soap didn’t seem to help. He rubbed it deeper into his skin with numb fingers, his fingernails leaving long scratches. Thanks to the cold, he didn’t feel them and his nose only stung a little.

“Fuck this, why isn’t it getting away?” He held his breath and dived under, dived up, but it was still the same. “FUCK!” His fists hit the surface when the soap slipped from his hand and disappeared in the dark river. He took another deep breath and was ready to dive after it when Jesse called his name.

“Genji! Enough. Get out.”

“But-!”

“Now!” Or he’d get him out. Jesse didn’t have to say it, Genji understood him well enough.

“Fuck this shit. Fuck this fucking night.” Taking careful steps over the slippery ground, he waded back to the river bank.

“You forgot to wash your mouth.” Jesse chuckled in amusement, offering him a hand. Genji stared at it as if it was a disgusting beetle. Ignoring it, he crawled out of the river on his hand and feet. Shivering, hugging himself, he stood in front of Jesse.

“Strip.”

“How about a lap dance while we’re at it?” Genji pulled a face. He sighed, taking Jesse’s raised eyebrows as a ‘no’ and peeled the wet, heavy shirt from his body. With his shaking hands and his stiff fingers and joints it was even less easy to climb out of his pants but finally, he was naked, barefoot, and shaking while lazy snowflakes drifted through the air.

“Good kid.” Jesse nodded and to Genji’s surprise, he took off his hat and pulled his serape over his head. “Here.” He pulled it over Genji’s head. Genji feared this was another joke or another weird dream. But the wind stopped biting him, he felt the wool scratch him and the warmth of its owner on his skin.

“Let’s go back.” Once he picked up the lantern, Jesse turned around and walked away from the river. The faint light moved with him and Genji hurried after him before he was left in the shadows and whatever lurked behind them.

Genji’s suspicion proved right, Jesse had messed with him when they left. They reached the cabin entrance after only a few minutes. Genji pulled the serape tighter around him. It helped but his feet and legs were numb from the water and the snow. He bit his tongue. He hated the thought of still being at the mercy of a killer but he was looking forward to being shielded from the weather and the crackling fire.

Jesse unlocked the door and pushed it open. Genji followed him inside and froze on the threshold. The smell of blood and vomit had thickened in the heat from the fire, as lovely at it had been in his imagination, it now hit him like a brick. Weasel’s corpse was lying still, his blood seeped between the cracks in the wooden floor and was already beginning to dry. Genji stared at him. The cold had cleansed his mind for a few moments but reality waited for him. He was dizzy. The longer he stared, the more certain he was he saw the body twitch.

“I’m not going in there,” he whispered, taking a step back outside.

“Is that so.” Jesse put the lantern back on its hook and warmed his hands in front of the fire. “And where are you going instead?”

“Back. Home. Anywhere, just away from here.” He made another step but failed to look away from Weasel. He was sure, if he left him out of sight, something horrible would happen.

Jesse rubbed his hands, clapped, and walked over to Genji. He grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around.

“What do you see?”

Genji’s heart sunk. The wind hurled invisible snowflakes into his face. In front of him was nothing but darkness. He neither saw trees nor the sky when he looked up. When he looked down, he only saw their last footprints before they went inside. Nevertheless, he took another step outside. Who was he kidding? He was naked under the serape, he had no idea where they were and where he should go. Even if he had any clue in which direction he’d have to walk to find the nearest town, he’d get lost and freeze to death before he got there. Without his ID and credit cards, it could take ages until his body was identified. If he was ever found.

A lump formed in his throat. He was sick of crying but caught between the corpse of his tormentor and winter’s hell, there wasn’t much left for him to do.

“Come back inside.” Jesse put his arm around Genji’s shoulders and steered him away from the door, closing it behind them. Bare feet patted over the floor, careful to not get too close to the body and the blood. Jesse left him in front of the fire, picked up a bucket and returned to the door. Genji jerked around.

“Where are you going?”

“Getting water. Back in a minute.”

“No!” Genji leaped after him, clinging to Jesse’s arm. “Don’t leave me alone! Not with _him!_ He’ll kill me!”

“He’s dead.” Jesse peeled Genji from his arm and gently pushed him back. “He ain’t gonna kill anyone anytime soon.”

“You never know!” Genji looked from the corpse to Jesse. He had to stay! Weasel was evil, whatever his power was, he hindered Genji from fighting back. He’d petrify him, rape him, and when he had enough, he’d torture him to death! Jesse had to stay!

“Kid, I shot his face off. Trust me, he’s as dead as a man can be.” He ruffled through Genji’s wet hair. “There’s a dresser in the back. You’ll find a towel and some clothes there. I’ll be back before you can sit down by the fire.” Jesse was out of the door before Genji had another chance to take a hold of him.

Genji backed away from the door. The more distance he brought between himself and Weasel, the better. He jumped when the corpse twitched.

“Calm down, calm the fuck down.” He gave a hoarse laugh. He hadn’t seen a movement. A piece of lumber cracked in the fire, the sound startled him. Jesse was right, Weasel was dead, he wouldn’t move and he, Genji, had to get a good hold of himself, if he ever wanted to escape and stay alive long enough to enjoy his freedom, he better didn’t lose his mind. Strengthened by resolve and reason, he headed for the drawer Jesse mentioned, always watching the corpse from the corner of his eye.

He hadn’t seen the dresser before. One of the bed was standing next to it, so close, he had mistaken it for a part of the wall. He opened the two drawers and helped himself with a thin, scratchy towel and some clothes. They were used and too large for him but better than nothing.

He slipped into the pants without taking off the serape. Weasel hadn’t moved and if he did, he wouldn’t have had any working eyes left, yet, Genji felt watched. He quickly put on the dark red sweater and sat down on the bed, wrapping the serape around him like a blanket. Humming to himself, he rocked back and forth, hoping in vain to find comfort in the melody of a lullaby he remembered from his childhood. He never looked away from Weasel. He’d die if the monster attacked him but he refused to be caught by surprise.

The corpse turned its head and Genji screamed.

“Dammit, kid, get a grip!” Jesse threw the door shut. The bucket he was carrying was filled to the brim with snow that quickly began to melt once Jesse hung it above the fire.

“Sorry.” Dozens of needles seemed to prick his face when the blood shot in his cold cheeks. Jesse had to think he was an idiot. Not that it mattered but Genji was beginning to fear he really was an idiot, one who was seeing things like corpses coming back to life. He shook his head. He was exhausted. After a few hours of sleep, his brain would function again.

“Get your ass over here, I need your help.”

Genji nodded weakly and climbed off the bed. In Jesse’s presence, he finally relaxed in front of the fire. His limbs lost the numbness. He uncomfortably shifted from one foot to the other; he felt as if he had fallen into a pile of needles. Clenching and relaxing his hands helped at least with his fingers. Watching the snow in the bucket turning into water calmed his mind.

“I’m taking out the trash. Be a sweetheart and clean the floor.” Jesse removed the bucket from the fireplace and put it on the floor. He pointed at the cleaning rags he had used before to clean up Genji’s vomit. “If they aren’t clean enough grab a towel.”

This time, Genji didn’t jump after him.

“Why do you leave me again?” The calmness of his voice surprised him, then again, it didn’t. He was tired of fighting. He accepted he was caught in a never ending nightmare, all he wanted now was for the night to be over.

“Getting rid of this.” He grabbed Weasel by the belt and lifted him from the floor. “Take care of the floor.”

Once more, Genji was alone. Slowly, he exhaled. He was still queasy on his stomach when he looked at the dried blood. At least, the panic settled. He grabbed a rag and shoved the bucket closer to the filthy floor. He wasn’t alone with Weasel anymore. He couldn’t hurt him anymore. Now he only had to stop thinking what would happen if Jesse never returned because the monster killed him before it came back for Genji.

Humming a lullaby, he began scrubbing the floor. Once white snow turned into red water.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weasel is dead.
> 
> OR IS HE?
> 
> (also, I have to apologize again for the sloppy editing. I should do it more thoroughly, I should check for repeated words but... I'm tired and I wanna share and I want icecream >_<)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoi! Here's the chapter that'll ruin the whole experience because it's too soft!

“Hey, hey, easy there.” Jesse removed his hat and shook off the snow. He stomped over the threshold, leaving white prints that quickly melt in the warm room once he closed the door behind him.

“It’s you…” The vision of the skinny, hateful man dissolved. Genji’s lips added a silent ‘Jesse’. His mind understood what he saw but his muscles were stiff with terror. His fingers were clenched around the wet rag. A drop of water dripped on the floor. And another, an oddly sharp noise against the comfortable crackling of the fire. Jesse looked down at him. The shadow of his hat fell over his face, hiding his eyes from Genji.

He squeezed the rag harder. This was a trick. Jesse had been away for hours, or so it felt, and all it needed to fool a stranger was donning his hat and his serape. The beard was a good touch, he couldn’t explain it and maybe he was wrong but as long as he couldn’t see the eyes of the man standing above him he was in danger.

“That’s enough.” The deep voice calmed Genji’s nerves. He twitched but didn’t scream or fight when Jesse took him by his wrist and pried the rag from his fingers. He tossed it into the fire. Flames sizzled in agony before they vaporized the nasty intruder in their rage.

‘So tell me, honey. Are you a virgin or not,’ they hissed. ‘Tell me.’

“Leave me alone!” Genji pressed his hands on his ears but the crackling voices echoed in his head. “Shut up.” He sobbed but there was nothing that could stop them, they would be with him forever. They waited in the fire and in every dark corner of every room he’d ever enter for the rest of his life.

“He’s dead and he stays dead.”

Genji slowly took down his arms and looked up at Jesse.

“How can you be so sure?”

Jesse patted his gun and shrugged, “Ain’t ever seen one come back after a bullet ate their brain. Not that it was much of a feast to begin with this time.” He chuckled, picked up the bucket and left the cabin once more.

The floor where Weasel died was darker than the rest of the cabin. He had scrubbed and scrubbed but the blood didn’t go away. It seemed to slip away from him, escaped into the cracks until he looked away. When he looked again it was back. It was everywhere. Genji held his breath. His hand was shaking an inch about the floor. When he became dizzy and his head twitched, he exhaled and put his flat hand on the wood. He smiled. It was cold and wet but his fingers didn’t stick to it. It was just water. The floor would be as good as new once it dried.

He tilted his head and squinted. There was a reddish shine to the dark spot. He might have removed most of it but what if he wasn’t thoroughly enough? He shuddered. He had picked up splinters of Weasel’s brain and lumps of his brain and thrown it into the bucket. He gagged at the thought of it but the disgust was nothing in comparison of what he had felt with Weasel around. He wanted everything of that monster gone, whether it was a hair or the tiniest speck of blood.

He glanced at the fire. The flamed had calmed down after devouring the cleaning rag and Jesse had taken the bucket away. That was okay. It made things harder but it was still okay. Genji leaned closer to the floor. His fingernails scratched over the wood and dug into the cracks. The fingernails were soft from the water and before he knew it, he ripped the first two off.

“Ouch.” He held his hand. Once the worst of the pain subsided, he took a careful look at his fingers. On the right hand, the nails of his middle finger were broken off. One of the indexes was still hanging on a thin stripe of skin. It tore into the nail bed, exposing pink flesh and two quickly growing bubbles of blood.

“Dammit.” He took the broken-off piece between his teeth and ripped it off completely with an abrupt turn of his head. He hissed, shaking his hand as if he could shake off the pain. Where was Jesse? He had to ask him for a band-aid. He looked around but Jesse was nowhere to be seen. Weird, he thought he had come back a few minutes ago. Hopefully, he was all right. Genji shuddered at the thought of being alone in the middle of nowhere with no gun to defend himself in case Weasel came back.

He nodded with sudden resolve. He had to take precautions, just in case. He’d check the food supplies and there had to be knives somewhere. Jesse was annoyed they were stuck in the snow but he didn’t seem too worried, therefore, there had to be enough food for three to last one or two more days. All he had to do was survive the night and if Jesse was dead somewhere out there, Genji would take one of the horses and trust it to find the way out of this hell for him. Dogs could do that. Cats, too, he had heard. So why wouldn’t a horse?

Genji stood up. His knees and back so badly, he feared his joints would shatter into pieces if he moved too quickly. He cast one last look at the floor and yelped. Close to burst into tears, he sank to his knees again, numb to the sharp jolt of pain when they hit the floor. He ran his fingers over the wood and looked at the fingertips. Red. From three tiny, fine droplets of blood.

Genji swallowed hard. It was coming back. He was coming back. He waited and for a moment, Genji had let his guard down. That wouldn’t happen again!

“Hell, kid, what do you think you’re doing?”

Genji’s head jerked up and he smiled. He hadn’t seen or heard Jesse coming back, nor when he dropped the bucket to the floor. He was busy with his task at hand.

“It won’t go away. But he won’t win. I’ll remove it no matter how often it comes back!” He turned back to the floor but Jesse grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up.

“It’ll take forever if you keep bleeding all over the place.” Jesse took one of Genji’s hands and turned the palm up, holding it in front of Genji’s face.

“Oh.” Genji’s eyes widened. His fingertips were bleeding. All the nails had broken off. The skin of his palm was so tender it was pink and torn in a few spots. His knuckles were also bleeding. He looked at his other hand - it was in the same desolate condition.

“I didn’t notice…”

“Obviously. They were only rough when I left to get rid of that pig’s blood. Here.” Jesse held up the bucket. Once again, it was filled with snow. “Clean and cool them.”

Genji nodded and stuck his fists into the snow. He barely felt the cold but he flinched when the many small wounds were burning at first. After a moment, it stopped. The snow was melting around his fingers, the cold water soothing the pain.

“Good boy.” Jesse put the bucket down. He pulled a wrinkled but surprisingly clean handkerchief from one of his pockets and wrapped it around Genji’s hands. “Go to bed. I’ll have a look at ‘em in a moment and get you something to eat.” He looked at Genji’s sweater and sighed. “Get fresh clothes. Make sure they stay clean this time or you can wash them all tomorrow in the river.”

“Why?” He answered the question himself after looking down on him. The sweater and pants he had put on only a few moments before - or was it an hour? Hours? - were smeared with blood. Without further protest, he hurried back to the dresser, grateful he didn’t have to sleep in clothes stained with Weasel’s blood. He made the silent promise to be more careful, there was no way to tell how long Jesse’s generosity would last. However, he didn’t want to sleep in a thick sweater and jeans.

“Where have you been?” he asked, pulling a long-arm shirt he found at the bottom of the second drawer over his head. Jesse had turned his back to him and was cleaning his own hands in the snow bucket.

“Got rid of that blood cocktail.” He pulled off one of his boots and cleaned it with the help of the snow and a dirty towel he had snatched from a shelf.

“That took so long?” Genji sat down on the bed, rubbing his arms. He shivered, wondering if he should stand up again and put on a second pair of socks. He decided against it and slipped his feet under the thick wool blanket.

“Most things living in these woods don’t give a fuck about us. Unless they smell blood. Even watered down it’s nothing to their noses.”

Genji pulled the blanket up to his chin. He had forgotten that Weasel wasn’t the only dangerous creature in this forest. The last hope to escape on his own died, he wouldn’t make it out of here alone. Sharp teeth would shred him into pieces if he tried, leaving his remains to the ghosts that haunted these damn woods. There was something he dreaded talking about but the question was burning on his tongue. If he ever wanted to sleep again, he needed ago?

“What.. What did you do with him?”

“There’s a ravine. Nice and steep. Had to walk a bit to get there.” Jesse peeled himself out of his coat and put it and his hat on a chair next to his boots. He knelt down by the fireplace and poked the embers. Sparks danced in front of his face. Genji smiled for a second, then he remembered the glowing end of the fire poker and how close he was to losing his eye. He crawled against the head of the bed, wrapping the blanket around him.

“Can he get out of there?” He grimaced, disgusted by his own feeble voice. Jesse, who was browsing through one of the shelves, gave a husky laugh. He picked a sealed bag and a small box from another shelf before he joined Genji and sat down on the bed.

“Weasel? Out of there? Sure. If he had a pulse and a brain. Here, eat something.” He ripped the bag open and dropped it on Genji’s lap. Genji pulled his arms from under the blanket and inspected the bag. Chocolate cookies. He frowned.

“Sorry, your Highness, that’s all you get. Better go easy on your stomach tonight. Gimme one of your hands.” He opened the small box when Genji obliged and held out his left hand.

“That’s not it.” Genji poked the bag with his right hand. “I’m just not hungry. Ouch.” He flinched when Jesse sprayed a burning liquid all over his hand, holding him firmly by the wrist to prevent Genji from pulling away. Another fine shower of disinfectant covered his fingertips; Genji whimpered.

“Blame yourself.” Jesse chuckled with merciless amusement. “And eat. One per hand.”

Genji sighed, picked one of the cookies and took a small bite. Dry and sweet. He still wasn’t hungry but he had resigned to worse fates lately. Slowly, he was feeling warmer under his blanket. He was still nauseous but as he nibbled on his cookie, his stomach seemed to settle a little. Jesse was covering his hand with band-aids and wrapped wonderfully soft gauze around his fingers, muttering curses how he was supposed to cover the fingertips.

Genji watched him in silence, unaware of the smile on his face. For the moment, it didn’t matter Jesse was still one of his kidnappers. He gave him food, his hand was gentle and warm. There was something calm and assuring in the way he moved and how sparsely he spoke.

“Don’t give me that look.” The warning growled in the back of his throat when he was half finished with Genji’s right hand.

“What are you talking about? I’m just watching what you’re doing with my hand.” Genji chewed on the last bite of the first cookie without enthusiasm. A sharp pain shot from his fingertip up his whole arm. “Ouch!” He looked away from Jesse’s face and to his hand. Jesse pressed the pointy tip of a scissor into the raw flesh of his index. A small drop of blood welled from the new wound.

“Why did you do that? I thought you’re helping me!” He tried to jerk his hand away but Jesse’s closed tightly around his wrist until it hurt.

“I’m not like that dead shithead but I’m not your friend or your knight in shining armor.” Jesse squeezed harder until Genji hissed.

“I know, I know, who’d want a friend like you?” Genji clenched his jaws, trying not to yelp. He had forgotten how strong Jesse was and that he wasn’t a kind soul. The same hand that had broken his nose was about to do the same to his wrist although his only crime was staring. To make it worse, he hadn’t noticed himself he was staring but he certainly wouldn’t do it again.

“Good. Terrified kids covered in tears and vomit aren’t my turn-ons but never forget two men kidnapped you.” The grip loosened and Jesse returned to cleaning and dressing the wounds.

“Like I would. Asshole,” he added, frustrated it didn’t come out as menacing as intended. It was true, Jesse wasn’t as terrifying as that sick, perverted piece of dead shit but he was still dangerous. Genji’s well-being depending on his mercy. One wrong step and his corpse would be fed to the wolves or his living body sold to the next brothel. He still wasn’t sure what look Jesse had been talking about but he had to admit he had indeed forgotten about the danger he was in. Aside from Weasel coming back to haunt him. Fuck. He stared at the bag sitting on his lap. He didn’t want to let go of this false sense of security and comfort, it was all he had left to stop himself from going insane.

“That look is worse.” Jesse dropped the finished hand and raised from the bed to return the first-aid kit to the shelf. “How are your nose and tooth?” he called across the room while he opened a tin of canned soup and poured the content into the cooking pot.

Good question. Genji carefully touched the back of his nose. The swelling had gone down but it was still sensitive to the touch. He flinched. It was bearable. His tongue poked against his tooth. He flinched again but if he hadn’t paid attention to it he’d barely have noticed the pain. His jaw around the broken tooth was numb and now that he was thinking of it, there had been pain while he was chewing.

“I’ll live.” He shrugged. “It’s not great but I’m kinda getting used to the pain.” He laughed at the own bitterness in his voice.

“Welcome to the adult world. Now eat your cookie and go to sleep.” Jesse grinned as he shoved a spoonful of soup into his mouth. Despite the rediscovered pain of his tooth and the still sick stomach, his mouth began to water. He wasn’t sure what the reddish mesh Jesse was eating was but it smelled like fat and salt. Real food. He shook his head. Canned soup. Was hungering for cheap, inferior food also part of the adult world? Or maybe it was the time he acknowledged the pampered life he had until a few days ago.

“Whatever.” He gave in and picked a second cookie, wishing Jesse hadn’t reminded him of his tooth. The pain wasn’t bad enough for him to burst into tears but it was sharp and unpleasant. He shoved the small bites around in his mouth, more sucking them than chewing and swallowed as soon as he could without choking. Once he was done, he put the bag on the floor and brushed the crumbs off his bed. A task easier said than done with two bandaged hands but finally, he declared his bed to be in an acceptable condition to sleep in. He observed Jesse for a few more moments. He didn’t acknowledge Genji’s presence and his face was unreadable. No matter how desperately Genji searched for a hint of kindness or sympathy, he found nothing except the fine lines and deep shadows of exhaustions around his eyes.

Who was he fooling, nobody in this country cared about him. He wasn’t in a lucky situation now that Weasel was dead, he only was in a less horrible situation. But it was still horrible. Jesse was right, he helped him but he wasn’t his savior and not being a disgusting guy didn’t make him a good guy. The hope of finding an ally had kept him awake along with the pain in his hands. Jesse had done a great job. Once the burning went away, all he felt was an uncomfortable but dull pressure. A few minutes later, his tooth calmed down as well and to his surprise, also his stomach. With less and less to worry about, the impact of exhaustion hit him with its full force. All of a sudden he was dizzy and his eyelids too heavy to keep open. He more sank into his pillow than he laid down and he fell asleep to the sound of the fire and Jesse humming while he cleaned his gun.

When he woke up, Jesse was silent. Genji sat up, his head heavy with sleep. The spot next to the fireplace was empty. The fire was still burning and throwing shadows across the cabin.

Where was Jesse? Genji’s tired gaze was glued to the door. He shook his head, hoping to clear his senses from the ruins of his uneasy dreams but the rushing of his own blood and his heartbeat were too loud. He held his breath and listened.

Wood died in the flames. The storm whistled around the corners. Genji gasped, hitting his mouth with his hand to shut himself up. Someone was rattling at the door. Or something.

The sickness was back. Despite two thick blankets, he was shivering. Jesse? He didn’t dare to call him aloud. The late visitor was trying to get inside. He had to do something!

As carefully as his trembling hands allowed, he pushed the covers away and crawled towards the end of his bed. His heart gave a jolt. That noise! Somebody was inside! Close, next to him.

He curled up and heard the noise again. This time, he gave a nervous laugh. He was alone. The frame of the bed had squeaked under his weight. He shifted his body. There it was again. Everything was fine. No monster under his bed. Ha. Ha.

Finally, he reached the end of his bed. From here, he had a slightly better view at the door. He still had to squint and the fire wasn’t as strong as it had been before he fell asleep, but it was bright enough to see the door was still bolted. Genji sighed with relief. For now, he was safe.

He sat a shaking foot on the floor and glided out of the bed. The rattling at the door didn’t stop. It was only a matter of time.

Where the fuck was Jesse?! He tiptoed to the fireplace, praying the floor wouldn’t creak under his steps. Never leaving the door out of sight, he grabbed the fire poker. The iron was heavy in his hand. The bandages were wrapped tightly around his fingers and it was difficult to get a good grip but it’d have to do. He had only one hit and he had to make it count.

The fire next to him was warm. If he held the poker into the flames he could pay him back. This was his chance to show him how it felt, to fear for his sight while his lashes curled from the heat. Only he wouldn’t hesitate to ram the blowing iron into Weasel’s eye. Whatever was left of his eye. He stuck the end of the poker into the fire and cowered next to it. The rattling stopped and Genji released his breath but his body was still tense. The cabin didn’t have any windows or a second door and he wasn’t aware of a trap door or any other way to come inside. That didn’t mean there wasn’t another way and if anyone knew about it, it would be him. He winced when the rattling began again.

“Calm down, Genji, calm down. That means there’s only the door. He can’t get you if you get him first.” The poker was getting hot in his hand. It was time for him to act. Yet, he didn’t come further than pulling it out of the fire. He ordered his legs to stand up but his knees refused. Well, if that was how it was going to be, he wouldn’t walk. Dragging the poker over the four, he crawled towards the door. He reached the beam he was tied to before. Clinging to it, he pulled himself up.

“Go away, please, just go away,” he whimpered. It didn’t stop. It never would. Something was wrong. This wasn’t his breath that he heard, he was holding his.

He wasn’t alone.

“Hey, kid.”

“Stay away from me!” Genji jumped around. His knees were shaky, he staggered on his feet but caught his balance. Slowly, he raised the fire poker. His eyes widened.

“Jesse! You’re here!” He laughed, a short, abrupt sound that broke in his throat.

“Where else should I be? Slept in the second bed.” He pointed over his shoulder. Right, there were two beds. Genji had forgotten about them. “And now take that thing down. I don’t want to hurt you but I’ll shoot if I have to.” Jesse was calm and relaxed. His voice was tired but his eyes awake. His gun pointed at Genji.

“I…” He lowered the poker. “I don’t want to hurt you either.”

“Good. Put that thing away and go back to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Jesse lowered his gun. Genji hesitated. His bed, yes, that sounded good. And Jesse, he didn’t seem to be angry. His voice was almost friendly. He looked up at his face. Jesse even smiled. It was light and tired but it wasn’t a sneer or full of contempt. That was- nice.

The door! A jolt went through him when the unseen visitor from the other side of the door struggled harder to get in.

“He’s back.” His voice was a faint whistle of air in his lungs. Jesse frowned, the hand holding the gun twitching.

“What?”

“He’s back!” Genji suddenly screamed. “He’s back! He wants in!” He was trembling but wide awake. He jumped to the door, hammering against it with his free hand. “Do you hear him? He’s coming for me! He’s not dead! He never was!”

“Kid, what are you talking about?” Jesse put his gun down and stepped closer.

“No, no, no! Don’t put it down! You need to shoot him! I’ll hit him! This time, we’ll get him!” Waving the poker, he laughed. He was bouncing in front of the door, still slamming it with his hand. “What are you doing, Jesse? Come on! Pick up your gun!”

“Uh, sorry, kid, ain’t understood one word you just said.”

“I said, pick up your gun and-”

“Kid, English.”

“What?” Genji stopped bouncing, the arm with the poker hanging by his side. “What do you mean? Oh. I’m sorry,” he repeated, this time English. He’d been away from home for a while yet he hadn’t been aware he’d switched to Japanese. “I said, pick it up and, I mean, pick it, and…” What were they just talking about? He found the Japanese word for fire poker but that was his, not Jesse’s.

“Genji, calm down. It’s okay. Put it down and we’ll talk.” Jesse was coming closer, holding his hands up. He didn’t have any weapons on him. Like Genji, he had changed in more comfortable to sleep in, a shirt and shorts with no room to hide a knife.

Genji pressed his back against the door. Jesse was coming too close. What was he doing? Where was his gun? They had to work together! Genji could never take him down on his own, he needed Jesse’s help.

“Okay, okay, okay, Jesse. I got it. You’re not my friend, okay? You could hurt me or kill me. But you’re not disgusting. You’re not like him. You hate him, too, don’t you?” His mouth twitched. The high-pitched words stumbled out of his mouth. He licked his lips. Salt. Why…? He blinked a few times and wiped his face with the back of his hand. Tears. He was crying. Now it made sense why Jesse was becoming more and more blurry although he was getting closer.

“Everybody hated him, kid. He was an asshole. Was. Weasel is dead.” He was right in front of him and put a hand on Genji’s shoulder. The other reached for the hand holding the poker.

“NO! HE’S NOT!” Genji shouted, pushing Jesse away with a strength that surprised himself. “He’s right at the door! Don’t you hear it? He wants inside! Jesse! Please!” He looked from Jesse to the door and back to Jesse. His feverish smile was frozen on his face while tears streamed over his cheeks. Sobs interrupted his words. “Jesse, we have to kill him. DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!” He stomped, he screamed. Why didn’t Jesse believe him? Why would he smile at him like this now? He didn’t want a kind, sad smile. He didn’t want these intense, dark eyes to look at him with worry. It was too late for that! He needed the cold-blooded killer who punched his face and shot a bullet in the head of his friend.

“Genji. Weasel is dead. What you’re hearing is the wind. The snowstorm got worse.”

“HE’S NOT DEAD! But fine!” He slapped Jesse’s hand away when he tried again to reach for the poker. “If you don’t want to believe me, I’ll prove it to you!” He fumbled with the bolt. His fingers twitched, they hurt, he didn’t get a good grip because of the bandages and slipped but finally, the bolt clicked. He flashed a smile of triumph at Jesse, who was infuriatingly calm the way he stood there, with his arms crossed and this tired expression on his face.

“There!” Genji pushed the door open and jumped to the side.

“What’s there, Genji?”

He rolled his eyes at the ignorant, patient voice. Was this guy blind?

Poker lifted above his head, Genji hurled himself around, ready to strike.

Nothing.

“What? How?” The night was almost comically dark, turning the door into the frame of a pitch black picture. Wind howled. Snowflakes whirled around him, only becoming visible as soon as the came inside, to the light, and melt before they touched the floor. The cold lashed out at him like invisible sharp knives cutting his tears- and sweat-covered face.

“I don’t understand.” He heard it clearly now. Cracks and whistles in the dark but it was impossible to mistake it for anything else than the wind. He winced when something touched his shoulder. It was Jesse’s hand.

“Told you, it’s the damn wind. Weasel is dead.” This time, when Jesse took hold of his hand, Genji gave up the fire poker. It dropped to the floor. “Come.”

Genji nodded, still processing what just happened. It really wasn’t Weasel, was it? It was the wind but how could he mistake the wind for the rattling and knocking of a monster?

“I don’t understand,” he repeated while Jesse closed and locked the door, one arm still around Genji’s shoulders.

“Were some tough days for some of us.” Jesse kicked the poker out of their reach.

“I thought you were gone.”

“In my underwear?” Jesse chuckled. “Didn’t you see my stuff? You walked past it.” He steered Jesse slightly towards the chair by the fire. Yes, there they were, his boots, coat, and hat. His serape and gun holster was hanging over the chair’s back.

“I didn’t.” So Jesse had been here all the time, asleep, but somehow, it made everything worse. He hadn’t seen him, he hadn’t seen his clothes although he, as Jesse said, sneaked right past them. And it really was the wind. The door was closed but there was no doubt. There were the same noises, unsettling, but nothing but the wind.

“What’s happening, Jesse?” He turned around to him, his hands clawing into his shirt, pulling it as if he wanted to tear it to pieces. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Well,” Jesse smiled at him and put a hand on Genji’s forehead, “Seems like you caught a fine fever there.” Genji sniveled.

“A fever?” He almost laughed but instead, he cried again. “A fucking fever.” He didn’t want this anymore. Anything. Feelings. Thoughts. Fears.

“I want to go home.” He closed his eyes. Jesse gently stroke over his back, his embrace protecting him from slumping to the floor while Genji sobbed into Jesse’s shirt.


End file.
